


in other words, I love you

by rarmaster



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: M/M, alucard doesn't fucking know what to do with this, chrom plays wingman, dracula invented mini golf, junior wishes his dad would stop embarrassing him, two dads get gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Today's the day, Bowser decides. Today's the day he finally asks Dracula out.(Unfortunately he's kind of a disaster at this, but it works out.)





	in other words, I love you

**Author's Note:**

> please note: this was mostly written while on a video call with my Very Drunk Friends, and I incorporated every idea they gave me that I reasonably could. It's part of the charm. 
> 
> [take a bonus conversation that Absolutely happened at some point before this fic did](https://twitter.com/rarsneezes/status/1150218858998816769)
> 
> title from _Fly Me To The Moon_ , which is also referenced later.
> 
> \- - -

Today’s the day, Junior,” Bowser says, as he checks his hair for the third time in the mirror.

Junior, who has been sitting on the edge of his dad’s bed, kicking his feet aimlessly as he waits for his dad to be _ready to go already,_ sighs and humors Bowser: “What day, Papa?”

Bowser puffs out his chest. “The day I finally—" But in the middle of his proud declaration he loses some of his bravado. “Well. The day, alright? It’s just the day.”

Junior tilts his head, wondering if his dad’s just nervous or embarrassed.

“Is this about Dracula?” he asks.

Bowser splutters. “No,” he insists, in the way that makes Junior certain it is.

He sighs, long and suffering. “If you embarrass me again, Papa, I’m going to disown you.”

The meeting room for the SPCC ( _Smash Parent-Child Club_ ) is about as empty as it always is lately, since it’s been a year since Ultimate’s release and the Smash scene has quieted down, a little, meaning a lot fewer of the club’s members actually bother anymore to gather on their bi-weekly Thursday night meetings. Tonight’s the same as last meeting, and the one before—other than Bowser and Junior, it’s just Dracula and Alucard. Oh, and Chrom, of course, since he founded the club, but…

“Aw, no Lucina today?” Junior asks Chrom, sounding immensely disappointed.

Chrom laughs and pats Junior on the head. “She and Robin had plans, so we won’t be seeing either of them tonight,” he explains, sounding a little disappointed, himself. “Go ahead and take your seats, I’ll be done setting up the game in a minute.”

“Here, I’ll help,” Junior offers, and Bowser—glad to have his son out of his hair—goes to make his move.

He sits down in his seat next to Dracula— _his_ seat, which is _next_ to Dracula, which is kind of _the seat he’s been habitually sitting in since this club started and Dracula keeps letting him and that’s gotta mean something, right???_ —and then once he’s sitting Bowser thinks, well heck, maybe this wasn’t the best position to be in to _makes_ his move? He is _not_ going to mess this up, though, he is _not_.

“Hello, Bowser,” Dracula says, pleasantly. From the other side of him, Alucard leans forward enough to wave.

Alright, this is kind of awkward? But, Bowser promised himself he’d at least _try,_ so. He reaches over and puts his hand on Dracula’s shoulder, and in the suavest voice he can muster, says:

“ _Hey._ ”

Silence. Dracula blinks at him.

Bowser admits to himself that this went a lot differently in his head.

“Um,” Dracula says. “Hello,” he repeats, eyebrows raised slowly. He at least looks— _fond??_ So that’s okay??

Bowser drops his hand and tries not to fidget as he takes his Monopoly money from his son, knowing well enough the only way anyone can actually tell he’s nervous ( _even though his face is on fire but thankfully no one can see that_ ) is that he _fidgets_ so he _cannot fidget_. That was probably really dumb but it’s fine it’s fine he tried and he has the rest of the night to figure things out!! Probably!! Maybe he should have just texted Dracula about this, like Junior had suggested, but Bowser had wanted it to seem _casual_ and whatever, whatever, he wasn’t even sure Dracula _used_ his phone, anyway.

“Alright,” Chrom says, blessedly giving Bowser something else to think about. “Before we start playing Monopoly, I have an announcement.” He says that, and in his best public-speaking voice ( _which is, unsurprisingly, very good_ ), continues: “I think I’m going to call off meetings for this club for the next… foreseeable future.”

Lead settles into Bowser’s stomach.

“What??” he protests, glaring at Chrom across the table. If they stop having these club meetings how the hell else he supposed to see Dracula again? These meetings are the _only thing_ they have in common! ( _Other than being the major antagonists of very old very beloved franchises, anyway, but that only has so many talking points that_ aren’t _full of pain and grief._ )

“It just seems silly to keep renting out this space just for the five of us,” Chrom explains, with a shrug. “So until I can find another option—and perhaps a better time—I’m putting the meetings on hold. It’s not like we don’t have each other’s numbers, we can just make plans that way, if we want to meet up. Or you guys can continue on without me.” He smiles, polite and apologetic. “Anyway: Who goes first?”

“You can’t cancel the club, man, come on,” Bowser pleads with Chrom after Dracula and Alucard have gone home. Junior sighs and waits to the side, texting Toon Link about his dad’s latest escapades in romance, somewhat exasperated and mostly just bored.

Chrom looks for a second like he’s going to argue, but then he raises his eyebrows like he knows what this is _really_ about.

“Is this about Dracula?” he asks.

Junior snorts. Bowser groans and pulls at his hair.

“No,” he says. “And if it was, what of it?”

Chrom sends Bowser a sympathetic look, and then says: “You know, if you’d like me to set you up on a date with him, I think I can do that.”

Bowser wants to protest because, if anyone should be setting up the date, it should probably be him, right?? But also he’s kind of bad at this, so. He coughs into his hand.

“Could you?”

Dracula admits to himself, he doesn’t exactly know what he’s getting into. But alright, maybe he _is_ a little lonely, lately, and so when Chrom suggested he go on a mini golf date (…date? Is it a date??) with Bowser he was like. Alright, Fine. Fine. He likes Bowser’s company, anyway, and they needed _some_ kind of excuse to spend time together now that SPCC has basically disbanded.

So, that’s how he and Bowser are here, playing mini golf, right now.

“Y’know, you’re a lot better at this than I thought you’d be!” Bowser says, appreciatively, after Dracula makes his third hole-in-one for the afternoon.

“Well, seeing as I invented the sport,” Dracula says. (Did Chrom know? He can’t have.)

“You- you _INVENTED_ golf???” Bowser says, quite surprised.

“No, just mini golf,” Dracula corrects. “Regular golf is a colonizer’s invention, I would never.”

Bowser looks kind of speechless, but Dracula supposes that’s fair. Learning you’re playing mini golf with the inventor of the sport is bound to take some wind out of your sails.

“Anyway,” Dracula continues, to fill the silence, leaning casually on the mini golf club as he addresses his date. “It was a peace offering, something for me and Alucard to bond over after all of the… difficulties we’ve had, in our relationship.”

“Well,” Bowser says, finally. He nods, wisely. “It _is_ a nice sport to bond with your kid over! Me ‘n Junior play mini golf all the time.” Then he laughs. “Can’t imagine _your_ kid playing mini golf, though.”

“He’s quite good at it.”

“Maybe we should do this again, like as a family thing?” Bowser offers. It’s his turn to take a shot at the hole they’re on, but hasn’t moved from where he stands to the side, watching Dracula, apparently too invested in the conversation. “It’s uh, it’s nice spending time with you. And I think. Our kids would. I mean they seem to get along fine at the club meetings, so.”

“Yes,” Dracula says, then looks at Bowser. “Are you-- it’s your turn, you know.”

“OH, that’s right,” Bowser says. “Sorry I was distracted by—uh.” He coughs into his hand, shifting from foot to foot. “Thinking about how much fun I’m having spending time with you?”

Dracula blinks. Blushes, a little, though he turns his head away so his hair hides it. 

“Oh, well,” he says, somewhat startled, though touched. “I- It’s the same, for you, actually. It’s nice spending time with you.”

Bowser couldn’t possibly have grinned wider in that moment.

“Hey, Alucard,” Richter says, sitting down next to the dhampir. “You, uh, you doing okay?”

Alucard has been sitting here staring at his ice cream bowl for the past… Richter isn’t sure how long, just that the ice cream looks untouched and mostly melted. Does he intend to eat it? Probably not, at this point.

“My father… Is on another date,” Alucard says, slowly, like he cannot really believe what he’s saying.

“Your,” Richter begins, blinks. “Your dad’s fucking what.”

“No they’re not fucking yet, I think.”

“ _THEY’RE FUCKING!?”_

“No,” Alucard says, somewhat annoyed. “Not yet. I think. Honestly I don’t want to think about it.”

Richter admits that, you know what? He doesn’t want to think about it either. “So who’s, uh. Who’s he seeing?”

“Bowser.”

The fact that it is karaoke night at Bowser’s favorite sushi bar is absolutely not a coincidence. He absolutely did this on purpose. But listen? That’s the point?? Of course it’s the point. So was spending as much money as he did on all the fancy alcohol. Dracula only likes expensive wine but alright that’s fine, Bowser’s got money to spend and he might as well treat his date, a little. So he does. And he’s had… probably way too much whiskey himself, but that’s also fine. 

He looks to his date, then nods to the stage. “You wanna sing a duet?” he asks.

Dracula is… pretty far gone, so he thinks about it for about two seconds and no more before he says. “Yes. Why not.” 

Bowser grins wide and slides off the barstool, helping his date stay on his feet and make their way to the stage. Bowser, who is a regular, finger guns at Link, the guy running the karaoke. “You know which one, my good Hylian.”

Link salutes and queues up Frank Sinatra’s _Fly Me To The Moon._

“Sinatra, huh?” Dracula asks, as he considers the opening notes.

“One of my favorites,” Bowser admits, holding Dracula’s hands as he sways to the music.

“Didn’t consider you to be a jazz fan.”

“Are you kidding? I never listen to anything else! Anyway—I take first verse you take second we duet the last one?”

“Agreed.”

_In other words, hold my hand_  
In other words, baby, kiss me  
  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you

It’s honestly more romantic than Bowser had prepared himself for, and by the end of it he’s crying even as he’s grinning. They’ve only just gotten off the stage when Dracula pulls Bowser aside. Before Bowser can ask, Dracula stands on his toes and plants a kiss on Bowser’s snout.

“Oh,” Bowser says, surprised. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“Thank you,” Dracula says, “For an incredible night.” And then he smiles, and Bowser stomps his feet a little because _what the fuck, that’s cute?? That’s so cute??_

Bowser hums, delighted and too happy for words. Fly him to the moon, indeed.


End file.
